


Rough Night

by jesuisgrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek Hale Uses His Words, Excessive use of the F word, M/M, Misunderstandings, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 11:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27850026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesuisgrace/pseuds/jesuisgrace
Summary: [Derek] looks like he’s trying to will Stiles to be silent, to not wake Isaac up who is undoubtedly fragile from maybe sneezing during dinner or tripping over the coffee table, but he also looks like he maybe feels bad. A little. Feels a little, tiny bit bad about his boyfriend walking in on their one fucking night together to find him in bed with someone else.“Fuck this”, he mutters, holding his hands up and backing out of the room.“Stiles”, Derek whispers so quietly he can barely hear. “It’s not… he… he needs me. Don’t…”Stiles doesn’t wait around to hear the rest of his barely whispered not-apology. He turns and leaves. Derek doesn’t follow. Fuck. Today. So. Hard.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 20
Kudos: 411





	Rough Night

**Author's Note:**

> Isaac deals with his canon trauma in this fic. Details in end notes. If there is anything you think I should tag for, please let me know. If you have questions or need more info, please feel free to reach out on tumblr (eusuntgratie).
> 
> This is a Sterek-centric fic born out of my intense Isaac feels. I love these three. 
> 
> Thank you [Poe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poe/pseuds/Poe) for being my fic cheerleader, beta, and all around lovely human.

Fuck today. Just honestly, fuck all of today. Tonight is the only night, all week, that Stiles can see Derek alone. He’ll be here again tomorrow for a pack meeting which almost always turns into dinner and a movie after, but everyone will be here for that and the loft gets pretty full. Tonight is the only night they had for just the two of them. Derek didn’t have anything else going on, Stiles was supposed to be free, so they could actually spend a minute together. Alone. So of course today was the day that dead birds had to start showing up on doorsteps all across town. Naturally, the pack split up to investigate. 

This thing with them is still new, even though they’ve been dancing around it for years, and it hasn’t been easy to balance time for a new relationship with pack dynamics, Derek’s betas, Scott, everything going on with his dad, trying to figure out if it's worse to tell his dad about them or to lie, not to mention the supernatural crisis of the week. Stiles was supposed to be here three fucking hours ago. He would’ve called to let Derek know that he would be late if his phone wasn’t in the bottom of the fucking pool where he’d once spent two hours keeping Derek from drowning. Fuck. Today. 

He lets himself in, noting that the loft is dark. Derek is probably reading in bed; he wouldn’t have gone to sleep before Stiles got here. He crosses to the stairs and makes his way up, so relieved to just finally… be here. He doesn’t even think he has the energy for sex. He just wants to… snuggle. The thought of Derek holding him with his big, ridiculous arms against his ridiculous chest, radiating warmth and safety is the only thing that’s kept Stiles going the last few utterly frustrating hours. He just wants a moment of peace with the beautiful man that he’s wanted to fuck for literal years and is finally letting himself lo- have feelings for. 

It takes a minute for his eyes to adjust at the top of the stairs; there isn’t much light upstairs if Derek doesn’t have the lamp on. Once he can make out a lump on the bed, he makes his way over, tugging off his jacket and starting to toe off his shoes. But as he gets closer, he can see Derek sitting up, holding a finger to lips, telling Stiles to be quiet… because he’s… not fucking alone in the bed. Curled into his chest like he’s half his actual size, is Isaac. Beautiful, sweet, needy Isaac who is always right at Derek’s elbow, always touching him, hovering right behind him, always there. Isaac, who Derek will abandon Stiles for mid-makeout, blue balls be damned, if he gets a goddamned hangnail. Isaac, who he’s always had a bit of a touchy relationship with, but who now glares at Stiles at every opportunity like he’s taken his favorite toy away, or more accurately, his favorite person. 

Derek’s face looks… complicated. He looks like he’s trying to will Stiles to be silent, to not wake Isaac up who is undoubtedly fragile from maybe sneezing during dinner or tripping over the coffee table, but he also looks like he maybe feels bad. A little. Feels a little, tiny bit bad about his boyfriend walking in on their one fucking night together to find him in bed with someone else. 

“Fuck this”, he mutters, holding his hands up and backing out of the room. 

“Stiles”, Derek whispers so quietly he can barely hear. “It’s not… he… he needs me. Don’t…”

Stiles doesn’t wait around to hear the rest of his barely whispered not-apology. He turns and leaves. Derek doesn’t follow. Fuck. Today. So. Hard. 

-

Stiles thinks about drinking himself into oblivion, but he’s alone and he really doesn’t want to call anybody and he’s so fucking tired. He’s on his bed before he even decides, wriggling out of his clothes and burrowing under the covers. At least he splurged and got a nice mattress when he moved in. The highlight of his fucking day. Getting into bed. Alone. 

When he wakes up, it’s barely light out and clearly way too fucking early for him to be awake. He doesn’t hear his alarm, so he flops the comforter back over his head and tries to go back to sleep. 

“Stiles”, a certain voice he is NOT ready to deal with at the asscrack of dawn, says softly. 

“Fuck you, I’m going back to sleep.” He flips over. 

“Stiles, please? I want to talk before tonight and we both have to work today.”

Stiles sits up suddenly, flipping the covers down and glaring at Derek. 

“Oh, you want to talk now? Before tonight when everyone is over? Well isn’t it goddamned convenient for you that you can break into my apartment whenever you want so that we can talk on your terms. That’s fucking great. Y’know- I wanted to see you, Derek. Had a really fucking shit day. Walking in to find you in bed with someone else was really just the icing on the cake. Thanks for that.”

“Stiles it’s not-”

“It’s not like that? Not like what? You mean that you’re not fucking him? You don’t get it, Derek. You drop everything, including me, if he needs a goddamn tissue. He’s up your ass constantly, glares at me whenever I’m around, and it’s really goddamn obvious that he hates us being together, is jealous as fuck, and you don’t set any fucking boundaries with him! Don’t make me the fucking bad guy here, Der. How the fuck would you feel if there was somebody in my bed when you crawled through my window this morning? Huh?”

Derek growls, a low rumble that Stiles can feel as well as he can hear. 

“Exactly. Fuck you. If this was reversed you’d start mauling someone before I could get a word in edgewise. But I’m supposed to be chill just because you’re not putting your dick in him?”

“No. I don’t-. It’s different. He’s- You don’t understand. I -”

Derek mashes his lips together, eyebrows crowding toward his nose, wrinkling his forehead. Stiles knows that means he’s having trouble putting his thoughts into words. Usually seeing the struggle on his face makes Stiles patient. This morning, with no sleep and no answers and no patience left, it pisses him off. 

“Well?”

Derek’s voice is low and quiet. “You didn’t check in. You didn’t call and you didn’t answer any of my texts.”

“Well my phone’s at the bottom of the Beacon Hills High pool, but I’m sure the janitor and the chlorine will really appreciate your heartfelt concern.”

“The pool?” Derek looks up at him then with his eyes wide, and he knows he’s thinking about that night. The kanima. 

Stiles sighs. “Nothing like that. There wasn’t anything useful at the school. I heard something in the pool room. I tripped over a fucking bucket and dropped my phone in the pool.”

Derek’s eyes soften as he mostly suppresses a smile. Stiles can’t help but thaw a little looking at him. 

“So why didn’t you come back after that?”

“You sent me there alone, Derek. And I didn’t have my phone. I had no idea what was going on. So I went looking for everybody else. I couldn’t find Lydia, I didn’t know where Boyd and Erica went, Scott wasn’t at the hospital. By the time I found him at Deaton’s it was almost 10. You didn’t even - you weren’t even worried about me.”

“Stiles, you can’t-”

Derek is up and halfway to the bed before he catches himself, reaching out to Stiles. He stops, glancing at the end of the bed, silently asking permission to sit. But he doesn’t try to touch him. 

Stiles huffs, but rolls his head dramatically towards the end of the bed. 

“Stiles I am always worried about you. Always. I sent-”

“I’m not fucking weak, Derek!”

“Stiles, stop. I know. I know. But you’re human. And you’re brave and loyal and you’d do anything for our pack. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t want - I mean, why I was scared for us to - I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. I couldn’t handle it.”

“I know, Der.” Stiles huffs again, looking out to the middle of the room. They’ve had this conversation fifty times if they’ve had it once. 

“I sent you to the school by yourself because I’d been by earlier. I was pretty confident there wasn’t anything there, but I thought you might be able to put something together if one of the teachers was involved. I thought you’d be safe there.”

“Derek what the actual fuck? Don’t send me on a goddamned goose chase to keep me out of your hair like a fucking toddler! Jesus Christ you know how that shit makes me feel. Stop it, don’t fucking touch me right now.”

Derek draws his hand back, looking hurt. 

“It wasn’t a goose chase. Lydia heard someone muttering calculations yesterday. You know that’s why I sent you.”

Stiles just stares out into the room, too pissed to respond. 

“I’m always worried about you, Stiles, but I knew you were okay last night. I called Scott when you didn’t check in. He hadn’t seen you yet but his mom had told him she saw you at the hospital and that you were looking for him, that she sent you to Deaton’s. And Boyd had already figured it out by then. There wasn’t even anything supernatural going on. Some stupid kid with a fucking bb gun. He won’t do it again.” Derek tries to smile but it looks more like a grimace. 

“Okay. We gonna talk about Isaac?”

“I sent Isaac to the vault where the-”

Stiles cuts him off, “I know that Derek, I was fucking there, I mean are we gonna talk about him in your fucking bed and your complete lack of boundaries?!?”

“I know, Stiles. Will you let me explain, please?”

“Whatever.”

“I sent Isaac to the vault. Allison was supposed to go with him but something came up with her dad. There wasn’t anything there, either, but the place is wrecked inside from the-” Derek coughs. “Anyway, he managed to get himself trapped in a closet; locked himself in and was too panicked to get out. He- he was in there for a fucking hour before I found him. Thank God Allison told me she’d gotten called away or I don’t know how long he’d have been in there.”

Derek’s voice is shaky and Stiles can see the guilt on his face. Derek isn’t the cause of Isaac’s trauma, but he blames himself whenever Isaac feels the effects. 

“The freezer,” Stiles whispers.

“Yeah. It was bad. Worse than it’s been since… in a long time.” 

Derek looks down at his hands. Stiles feels like he’s being pulled in opposite directions by two very strong werewolves. He and Isaac aren’t close, but they’re pack. He doesn’t want to see him suffer anymore than Derek does, and he certainly doesn’t deserve what his father put him through. He’s a good kid. 

“Derek you know I don’t want- that I don’t think-”

“Just let me finish first. Please? Then you can say whatever you want. Just let me get this out. You know it's… hard. For me.”

Stiles nods, encouraging him to continue. He does know. 

“I went straight there after Allison called. But he’d already been in there for awhile. He wasn’t screaming or fighting anymore. He couldn’t even, I don’t know if he even knew I was there. I took him back to the loft but he just, he wasn’t coming out of it. I- I know you don’t want to hear this, but touch helps. It’s different for wolves. We need - pack bonds are solidified through touch. I held him on the couch for an hour before he even started crying. Stiles, it was awful. I couldn’t do anything. He wouldn’t even let Erica close to him. Once he started crying he couldn’t stop. He was scared and embarrassed and he didn’t want the others to see; I just brought him upstairs and turned the light off. I thought maybe he could calm down if we were alone. It took awhile but he finally fell asleep.”

“Did you get any sleep?”

One corner of his mouth crooked up but he didn’t say anything. 

“Derek-”

“I know. But he has nightmares sometimes, and I didn’t want- I just didn’t want it to get that bad again. He’d had enough.”

“How is he?”

“He’s okay. Embarrassed, which is ridiculous. I mean I get it, but we all have shit, right? Anyway. He was okay when he woke up. Allison came over this morning and Scott was on his way. I left him on the couch with Allison and Boyd and Erica. He said he was okay.”

“Derek I don’t want you to be an asshole, okay? That’s not what I’m asking for here. I know we aren’t besties but I care about him too. I just don’t understand why you’re the only one; why he’s so attached to you. The other betas aren’t like that. He acts so jealous. I think he’s -”

“He’s not, Stiles. Trust me, I’d know. We’re not - it’s not like that. I’m his alpha. He was my first beta, so we have a strong bond anyway. But he didn’t have… he didn’t have anybody. His dad died right after I turned him. I still don’t know if he’s happy he’s gone or sad that he got killed. Maybe both. He has all this… trauma… and I didn’t help him deal with it. I didn’t even… we’re figuring it out, now. But I should’ve helped him sooner. I could’ve-”

“Derek”

Derek looks at him and sighs. “I know. I just- I don’t know. I don’t choose him over you. He’s pack. You’re pack. But you’re my, my boyfriend too. He knows that. He doesn’t- He’s not jealous. But he’s scared, I think. He’s scared to lose me, to lose us. He’s not used to having people who love him. He’s not used to being able to keep people.”

“Sounds familiar, Der.”

He smirks. “I know. We have a lot in common. Including that we’d rather ignore our shit than deal with it. But we’re both trying. And that’s a lot because of you.”

“Okay, Der. I just- look I fucking hate to admit this, you know? But a part of me will always think that I can’t have you either. Like what the hell are you doing with me? I still can’t believe it sometimes. It's hard to go from lusting and pining after you from afar to having you in my bed and knowing you want to be there.”

“Stiles you know it wasn’t because I didn’t want you..”

“I know, sourwolf, we’ve been over this. That’s not even what I mean, I just- sometimes it’s hard to believe you really want me. Isaac is fucking beautiful. And he’s a wolf. And I just- Fuck. I sound like a stupid teenager.”

Derek reaches out, slow, giving time for Stiles to pull back or say no. He doesn’t, so he settles his hand on his jaw. 

“Stiles you have no idea how beautiful you are. How much I want you. I don’t want a wolf. I don’t want Isaac. I want you. I don’t want anybody else.”

Stiles blushes, lowering his head to hide his smile. 

“Okay, you big sap. We still might need some ground rules.”

“That’s fair, I guess. How long do you have before work?”, Derek asks, leaning into Stiles. 

Stiles grabs for his phone and sighs dramatically. “I need to be in the shower in twenty. Thirty if you make me coffee and breakfast while I’m in there.”

“I can do that” Derek says against his lips, holding the sides of his face and pushing him back into the pillows with a kiss. 

-

Stiles stays over after Pack Night. He had tried to smile at Isaac, but he wouldn’t look at him. He wouldn’t look at anybody tonight, really, but Derek had cajoled him out of his bedroom, at least. 

Something wakes him up after being asleep for just a few hours. Derek is sitting up with his arm stretched towards the door and he hears muffled voices. Used to nighttime wake ups meaning something serious, he jolts up, looking around the room, finding Isaac hovering in the doorway and Derek half out of the bed. 

Isaac backs up. “No, no - I didn’t think. I’m sorry. I just. It’s fine, I’m fine.”

“Isaac.” Stiles says quietly. “Nightmare?”

Isaac’s eyes dart from Stiles to Derek to the floor. “Yeah. It doesn’t matter. I’ll just-”

“I still get them too, y’know? Did Derek tell you? I don’t get them much when I’m here with you guys, though. C’mon. Derek’s bed is huge.”

“What?” Isaac asks while Derek says “Stiles” quietly. 

“C’mon. Just come sleep with us. It’s no big deal. Just… hang on we’ve both got pants around here somewhere…”

Stiles reaches down to rifle around at the end of the bed, coming back triumphantly with Derek’s black sweats, which he shoves in Derek’s face, and his gray ones, which he shuffles into under the covers. 

“Pants are part of my ground rules,” he says with a smile. 

Isaac's mouth twitches a bit and he looks at the floor. 

Stiles scooches back to the far side of the bed, dragging Derek with him to the middle. Derek is looking between Stiles and Isaac like a confused puppy, and Stiles can’t help but laugh at the sight of two werewolves looking to him for permission to cuddle. 

“Let’s go, you big beautiful bastards. I need my beauty sleep.”

Isaac crosses halfway to the bed and stops, looking at the wall behind Derek and Stiles. Derek sits there frozen like a useless lump in the middle of the bed. 

“Do I have to do everything myself?” Stiles reaches across Derek to flip back the comforter. “C’mon Isaac, it’s fine. I’ve been there, dude. It sucks. It sucks a whole lot less if you don’t have to go back to sleep by yourself. Besides, everybody loves a good cuddle.” He shrugs, raising his eyebrows at Isaac. 

Derek looks at Stiles like he’s amazed by this new and strange creature. Isaac looks at him like he’s waiting for him to change his mind and yell at him. 

“I said it's fine and I meant it. I’d love to a have a deep emotional conversation about it but it's the middle of the night and no one is actively trying to murder us. Can you please just get in the bed and cuddle our damn alpha so we can all go back to sleep?”

Isaac snorts and crawls in. He settles himself like an awkward two by four about half a foot from Derek and stares at the ceiling. Derek lays down and manages to be nearly as awkward and still. 

“Okaaaaaay. We can do better than this, guys. This is embarrassing.” 

Stiles reaches across Derek, arm hovering over Isaac’s torso, looking for permission before he touches him. Isaac nods, and Stiles wraps his long fingers around his forearm before slowly pulling him over and into Derek. Derek pulls his arm out, wrapping it tentatively around Isaac who finally settles against Derek. 

“Much better”, Stiles reports, settling the covers and snuggling up on Derek’s other side. 

Stiles falls back asleep within minutes, face smashed into Derek’s ribs, soft breaths tickling his skin.

-

It takes Stiles a second to figure out why he’s faced with soft brown curls and a clean shaven face when he wakes up, but then he remembers last night. Derek must not have moved all night, probably too worried about the two of them to get any decent sleep himself. Again. They’re curled around him on each side and Stiles has ended up pillowed on Derek’s chest, looking down at Isaac. He looks peaceful and content, no signs of the panic and horror he must have experienced last night. 

Stiles sits up slowly, looking down at Derek whose mouth is barely curled up in a small smile. His wolf must be happy, having solved a problem that was surely eating at him awhile now. Stiles knows they’ll need to talk some more, establish a few more ground rules and boundaries besides “pants are required when Isaac gets in bed with us”, but this doesn’t feel insurmountable anymore. He shifts, ready to crawl out of bed to start the coffee, but Derek reaches a hand out and grabs him. 

“No, Stiles. S’early.”

“I’m just gonna make some coffee, big guy.”

“No. C’mere.”

Stiles laughs softly as Derek pulls him back in. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay. You’re happy, aren’t you?”

“‘ve got you. Course I’m happy. Shhhhhh”

“Okay, Der.” 

Stiles waits until he’s pretty sure Derek is asleep to whisper “I love you” into his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr (eusuntgratie.tumblr.com) about Sterek & Stucky <3
> 
> Isaac deals with his canon trauma in this fic - notably a panic attack that is not described in detail but that it takes him a long time to recover from, which is described in Derek's POV. He also mentions having a nightmare, but does not discuss it. Stiles mentions that he also has nightmares.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rough Night [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27968285) by [jesuisgrace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesuisgrace/pseuds/jesuisgrace), [Poe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poe/pseuds/Poe)




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